As the sun sets far into the river, I enter the night with the wind.
The autumn leaves distort the moon's reflection, I sit beside my window weakly.
Night jasmines are not yet asleep, but I've grown weary of searching for flowers.
Shone by the moon, I lament under a willow tree at night, thinking about my lover.

Even the great river flowing east is no match for your beauty.
No tenderness can withstand a long night of a frigid stormy snow.
The flowers' tears fall, scatter, and vanish.
The leaves in the mountain, with their eyes wept red, are blown away by the wind.

The night's breeze caresses the willow trees. Only the sound of the flute remains.
Red leaves, dyed in autumn's color,
scatter into the great river and flow for thousands of miles.
A veil of jasmine flowers are not aware of the pain of a maiden's transient life.
My tears begin to pour into the river.

The water still flows on without a companion.
The dream is old, and the autumn water's elevated.
By the time when the geese migrate back, I'm already tormented by my grief.
My tears have been flowing for too long in this night as I hold up my wine cup.
We, just like the mountains and the waters, are both weary of longing.
The river carried off the sound of my guqin.

Even the great river that flows east is no match for your beauty.
No tenderness can withstand a long night of a frigid stormy snow.
The flowers' tears fall, scatter, and vanish.
The leaves in the mountain, with their eyes wept red, are blown away by the wind.

The night's breeze caresses the willow trees. Only the sound of the flute remains.
Red leaves, dyed in autumn's color,
scatter into the great river and flow for thousands of miles.
A veil of jasmine flowers are not aware of the pain of a maiden's transient life.
My tears begin to pour into the river.

The night's breeze caresses the willow trees. Only the sound of the flute remains.
Red leaves, dyed in autumn's color,
scatter into the great river and flow for thousands of miles.
A veil of jasmine flowers are not aware of the pain of a maiden's transient life.
My tears begin to pour into the river.

This is the first (and so far the only) Vocaloid song ever sung in Chinese (Mandarin). It was original posted no Niconico titled "Xi Jiang Yue", but later reposted as "Yue Xi Jiang". The meaning remains unchanged.